As a part of my work as a teacher, we are required to do professional development several times a year. These workshops vary in content and quality. Sometimes they are technology workshops about how to better utilize Smartboards or software. Lately, there have been several related to curriculum design, mostly focusing on STEM/STEAM. My favorites though focus on inclusiveness and diversity in education. Yesterday, we did a three-hour workshop on majority and minority groups, exploring what it feels like to be in both.
During the workshop, we all (about 60 of us) stood on one side of the room. Then, as a scenario was posed, you crossed the room to the empty side, if the scenario applied to you. Some of them were innocuous, such as "Cross over if you grew up outside of New England." Once you got to the other side, you could choose to give more information about your crossing, or not.
This sounds simple, but it was really emotionally challenging at times. The feeling of standing on the side of the room with fewer or no other people with you was really outside my comfort zone. As we worked through the scenarios, they got more and more personal. Some other interesting ones posed were things like, "Cross if you:
- have been the only one of your culture or race within a workplace
- have ever been targeted by police simply because of who you are
- have ever felt targeted by a stranger because of who you are
- have felt embarrassed to tell people whether you went to college or where you attended
- lost a job opportunity because of something about your background
- have suffered from a life-threatening disease or injury
- are adopted
- been a single parent
- married to someone of another culture or race"
Then it got really interesting. The facilitator asked:
- "Cross over if you have ever had feelings of discrimination or discomfort around the question of why you don't have children, or your plans to do so."
I thought about whether to cross the room for a few seconds. As I quickly had to make the decision whether to "come out" to my colleagues, my inner voice became clear. I had to do it. I had to be honest with myself and stop hiding, even if I had to do it by myself. It was a little scary, but I've learned from personal experience that exposing myself in this way can often open a door to incredible conversation with someone else, who might also be struggling. So, I forced my feet to move into the empty space, with lots and lots of eyes on me. Luckily, as I glanced up, those eyes were full of warmth, support, and a little bit of shock.
Then, I got lucky. Within my school, I'm close with three other women who are either currently or have gone through infertility treatment in the past. One is pregnant, due a month after me (after seeing my RE!) and two are still in treatment. The other woman who is pregnant smiled at me, and then crossed over to stand at my side. The other two still TTC stayed where they were.
A second later, another co-worker came to stand near us, one I hadn't expected. This woman is a teacher I have worked with for several years, and over last year became quite unpredictable with some angry outbursts and general aggression. It suddenly dawned on me why there had been such a change in her personality.
All three of us took the opportunity to speak about why we crossed over. I said that I crossed over because it took us a lot of effort to attain this pregnancy, after years of being asked when I would have children. I spoke to the pain of people assuming that if you are young and married, that children are an assumed inevitability. My pregnant friend spoke to not only how difficult it was to watch co-workers get pregnant while she was still struggling, but also the guilt of currently being pregnant, knowing people close to you are still struggling. We both ended with how strange it feels to be on the other side.
The third woman spoke too. She talked about how she is unable to have children and watching us be pregnant is very painful for her. Instead of being hurt by her words, I felt tremendous empathy for her. How many times have I been in her shoes? How many times did I wish I could say the exact same thing?
After the workshop, I wrote to her and expressed my support. I gave her a bit more background of my situation and offered to speak to her about her process if she ever wanted to or felt comfortable doing so. About 30 seconds after sending my email, she responded in a really appreciative way. We made a date to take a walk after the first week of school and discuss her situation.
If I've learned nothing else from my infertility experience, it's that if you are willing to make yourself vulnerable and exposed to others, the payoff can be huge. Crossing that room may have been hard for me, but maybe it will make her journey just a teeny, tiny bit easier.
Showing posts with label fear. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fear. Show all posts
Friday, August 31, 2012
Friday, August 3, 2012
The Future of Medicine aka My Doctor Left Me for Someone Wealthier
I think I've spoken before about my primary care doctor. We'll call him Dr. Wonderful. I have to tell you - I love this man. Even though he is in a huge practice with tons of patients, he has never once rushed me through my appointments. He asks not only about my physical health, but also about how KG and I are doing on an emotional level. He kept up to date on all my infertility treatments (since they sent him reports on every single procedure) and trusted my judgement and instincts about my own care. He even trusts me to self diagnose my annual sinus infections, and call in meds for me, without dragging me in for an appointment. He calls me back within hours every single time I leave him a message. I completely trust him with the ickiest of medical issues and even KG is willing to see him, and he hates going to the doctor. Truly, he (along with my RE and my psychiatrist) set the bar for all of my medical care.
My warmest memory of Dr. W. was the night he found out about my failed fertilization during IVF #1. The man called me at 7:00 pm and spoke to me for a half hour about everything I was feeling and gave his opinion on next steps. He stayed after a day full of patients, just to comfort me. I cried after that call, simply because I felt so completely safe and cared for as his patient.
Then, on Wednesday, I got a letter from Dr. W. At first, when I saw his name on different letterhead, I just assumed he was switching practices (maybe one closer to my house?!).
Then, came the blow.
He is opening his own practice based on the "concierge" model of care. According to the letter, he would be opening a smaller practice, with much more personalized care, but you had to become a member in order to continue to see him. The annual membership fees would cover such things as longer appointment times, an in-house lab, 24/7 phone access to the doctor, wifi and snacks in the waiting room, and lots of other bells and whistles. Additionally, you also need to continue to pay for regular medical insurance to cover the actual office visits, labs, hospitalizations, etc. The fee is simply to join the practice.
How much could this fee possibly be, you might ask? A few hundred a year? A thousand?
Nope.
We are talking about $5,000 per year for me and KG. $5,000. A number so completely out of reach for us that it isn't even a remote possibility.
When I read the letter, my stomach sank. I immediately searched the internet and got quite the education about this issue. It's becoming more and more popular for PCPs to do this, to avoid pressure from insurance companies to pack in patients, with more and more paperwork. It's a total win for the doctors. Fewer patients, less red tape, appointments that run on time, and better quality of care. Similarly, for those who can afford it, it's a win for the patient too. I mean who wouldn't want all of that?
But I have to tell you, this makes me feel a little sick inside. Simply because I can't afford this extra fee, I am going to lose out on the care of the best doctor I have ever seen. It feels elitist. It feels exclusive. It feels like I am being shut out of an opportunity because I am not among his wealthiest patients. It feels that way, because it's true.
After the sadness, came anger. It just isn't FAIR. I stomped my feet. I pounded my fists. I called my mom to complain (who said her own PCP did this a year ago, but is only charging $300 per year.) Then I called Dr. W. and left a message to please call me back.
And he did. At the end of a long day seeing patients, he did what he always does: called me back promptly to discuss my concerns. He did so with grace and warmth. He explained his point of view (feels like he can't be the doctor he wants to be in his current practice, never sees his family, etc.) and expressed how much he appreciates me as a patient. I couldn't even stay angry. He's just that sweet.
The problem is, I see Dr. Wonderful *maybe* two or three times a year at this point. Other than infertility and the anxiety/depression issues (both covered by insurance), I have no reason to see him, other than physicals and the occasional sicknesses that come with everyday life. So, there is no way I could ever justify the cost to join the practice. So, I made a last ditch effort and asked him about a sliding scale for his fee. He said that I should call and inquire about it in a couple of months, after the new practice is on its feet. In the meantime, he referred me to another doctor and asked about how the pregnancy is going.
Although I can't stay mad at Dr. W. I am thoroughly freaked out by this trend. I know more and more PCPs are going to start following this model, and it scares the shit out of me. Really, it just means the richest people will get the best care, and the rest of us will have to deal with crowded waiting rooms, wait lists, and appointments that never run on time. Maybe this is the way it has been in America on a smaller scale, but it's becoming obvious that the disparity between the haves and the have-nots is going to affect the medical care of more and more people.
For me, it feels personal. It feels like I've been abandoned. It feels like I have one less person in my corner.
So long, Dr. Wonderful.
Anyone else have a PCP who switched to concierge care?
"Mad World," by Tears for Fears
My warmest memory of Dr. W. was the night he found out about my failed fertilization during IVF #1. The man called me at 7:00 pm and spoke to me for a half hour about everything I was feeling and gave his opinion on next steps. He stayed after a day full of patients, just to comfort me. I cried after that call, simply because I felt so completely safe and cared for as his patient.
Then, on Wednesday, I got a letter from Dr. W. At first, when I saw his name on different letterhead, I just assumed he was switching practices (maybe one closer to my house?!).
Then, came the blow.
He is opening his own practice based on the "concierge" model of care. According to the letter, he would be opening a smaller practice, with much more personalized care, but you had to become a member in order to continue to see him. The annual membership fees would cover such things as longer appointment times, an in-house lab, 24/7 phone access to the doctor, wifi and snacks in the waiting room, and lots of other bells and whistles. Additionally, you also need to continue to pay for regular medical insurance to cover the actual office visits, labs, hospitalizations, etc. The fee is simply to join the practice.
How much could this fee possibly be, you might ask? A few hundred a year? A thousand?
Nope.
We are talking about $5,000 per year for me and KG. $5,000. A number so completely out of reach for us that it isn't even a remote possibility.
When I read the letter, my stomach sank. I immediately searched the internet and got quite the education about this issue. It's becoming more and more popular for PCPs to do this, to avoid pressure from insurance companies to pack in patients, with more and more paperwork. It's a total win for the doctors. Fewer patients, less red tape, appointments that run on time, and better quality of care. Similarly, for those who can afford it, it's a win for the patient too. I mean who wouldn't want all of that?
But I have to tell you, this makes me feel a little sick inside. Simply because I can't afford this extra fee, I am going to lose out on the care of the best doctor I have ever seen. It feels elitist. It feels exclusive. It feels like I am being shut out of an opportunity because I am not among his wealthiest patients. It feels that way, because it's true.
After the sadness, came anger. It just isn't FAIR. I stomped my feet. I pounded my fists. I called my mom to complain (who said her own PCP did this a year ago, but is only charging $300 per year.) Then I called Dr. W. and left a message to please call me back.
And he did. At the end of a long day seeing patients, he did what he always does: called me back promptly to discuss my concerns. He did so with grace and warmth. He explained his point of view (feels like he can't be the doctor he wants to be in his current practice, never sees his family, etc.) and expressed how much he appreciates me as a patient. I couldn't even stay angry. He's just that sweet.
The problem is, I see Dr. Wonderful *maybe* two or three times a year at this point. Other than infertility and the anxiety/depression issues (both covered by insurance), I have no reason to see him, other than physicals and the occasional sicknesses that come with everyday life. So, there is no way I could ever justify the cost to join the practice. So, I made a last ditch effort and asked him about a sliding scale for his fee. He said that I should call and inquire about it in a couple of months, after the new practice is on its feet. In the meantime, he referred me to another doctor and asked about how the pregnancy is going.
Although I can't stay mad at Dr. W. I am thoroughly freaked out by this trend. I know more and more PCPs are going to start following this model, and it scares the shit out of me. Really, it just means the richest people will get the best care, and the rest of us will have to deal with crowded waiting rooms, wait lists, and appointments that never run on time. Maybe this is the way it has been in America on a smaller scale, but it's becoming obvious that the disparity between the haves and the have-nots is going to affect the medical care of more and more people.
For me, it feels personal. It feels like I've been abandoned. It feels like I have one less person in my corner.
So long, Dr. Wonderful.
Anyone else have a PCP who switched to concierge care?
"Mad World," by Tears for Fears
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Thank You
...to everyone who said kind, supportive, and helpful things in the comments to my last post. It really did help and gave me lots to think about. I'm lucky to have so many people care about me and The Nugget.
Those people close to me know that when I get overwhelmed, it tends to all boil over at once. It's just the way I process that kind of stress. To say I had a bad day is kind of an understatement. But, I woke up the next day feeling better and with a clearer mind. All of these things are a work in progress for me, and KG and I just need to continue to breathe and make our way through decisions, one by one.
So, on a happier note: We are heading down to see some friends in New Jersey this weekend, and spend time on the shore. If you have never been to south Jersey, don't judge. It is clean and beautiful, far from the stigma of that MTV crap. It will be wonderful to get away and spend time with people we love dearly.
And, here's the 15 week pic we took after we got home from our anniversary dinner the other night. If you live in the Boston area and haven't been to Hungry Mother (oh, the irony) in Cambridge, we highly recommend it.
Those people close to me know that when I get overwhelmed, it tends to all boil over at once. It's just the way I process that kind of stress. To say I had a bad day is kind of an understatement. But, I woke up the next day feeling better and with a clearer mind. All of these things are a work in progress for me, and KG and I just need to continue to breathe and make our way through decisions, one by one.
So, on a happier note: We are heading down to see some friends in New Jersey this weekend, and spend time on the shore. If you have never been to south Jersey, don't judge. It is clean and beautiful, far from the stigma of that MTV crap. It will be wonderful to get away and spend time with people we love dearly.
And, here's the 15 week pic we took after we got home from our anniversary dinner the other night. If you live in the Boston area and haven't been to Hungry Mother (oh, the irony) in Cambridge, we highly recommend it.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Breakdown
It happened. I had my first official breakdown this morning, in my OBs office. Yup. That was me. The crazy lady crying in front of a stunned OB. This breakdown was several days in the making, and as KG said when I called him after the appointment, "It just sounds like you had a cry inside you needed to let out." Apparently so. This is a long one, so get comfortable.
Let's back up.
Over the last week, I have been feeling tremendous pressure about finding child care for The Nugget. I had 3 people in the span of as many days ask me the dreaded question, "Have you looked into child care yet?" Cue. Panic. Even though, to me, it sounds totally insane to look at day care when you are 15 weeks pregnant, apparently in Boston it is totally necessary. I started googling, talking to friends, and making some phone calls. Indeed, several places said that now is the time to look for September 2013. Yup, over a year in advance. So, I made some appointments to visit a few places in our area. Oh, and guess what else? You need to be ready to cough up nearly as much money per month as our rent for full time infant care. Again, cue panic. Since staying home is not an option for me (or KG) this is the reality. We'll just have to suck it up and eat ramen for a while.
So there's that.
I'll preface the next bit by saying I am a person who likes direct instruction. Don't make me guess what I should do. Just tell me exactly the right thing to do and when to do it. I follow directions like a champ. Teachers tended to love me for this reason. I generally did exactly what they asked, in order to get a good grade. Open ended assignments? That's another story.
On to today's appointment.
I saw the OB we met last month. Again, she was a bit late (30 mins) but was warm and friendly. All started well, with my uterus measuring just right and The Nugget's heartbeat sounding loud and strong. She said my blood pressure was "on the high end of normal" but that might have been from feeling annoyed that she ran 30 minutes late. Anyway, she told me not to worry about it (then why tell me?). Then, she asked if I had questions. She didn't know what she was in for.
I started off by asking about why my ovaries are still quite large from IVF (they mentioned it at the NT Scan). She kind of brushed it off saying it would go away after the baby and they wouldn't do anything about it now. I'm okay with that I guess, but it did leave me wondering.
Then I asked about exercise. How much should I be doing? For how long? Again, I felt like I got vague answers. It started out okay. She said I should be exercising every day (holy shit!). Then, I got the standard, "Don't do anything that makes you uncomfortable, breathless, too hot, etc." Okay, that's all fine. But, when I pushed her to tell me how long each day, etc. I got, "Whatever feels right." If I knew what felt right, I wouldn't be asking. It feels awfully right to sit and watch Real Housewives instead of going to the gym.
Next, was the heaviest topic. I've written before about the fact that I am on prescription medication for anxiety and depression. I am on very low doses and have consulted my psychiatrist and two years ago (when we began TTC) I even went to a special clinic that deals exclusively with pregnancy and psychiatric medication. At the time, everyone recommended I stay on my medication, even though they are Class C, because the risk of having a depressive or panic episode was overwhelmingly likely, especially postpartum. The research generally shows that the risk to me outweighs the risk to the baby and that the chemicals that the body of a depressed mother releases can be more damaging to the baby than the meds. They also said the amount passed through breastmilk is less than through the placenta, so it shouldn't be a problem. But, I wanted to make sure this OB is on board and that breastfeeding will not be an issue at the hospital. Now, I know this is a complicated issue and honestly the research sucks in this area because they aren't randomized studies. It may not be a clear cut issue at all. But again, instead of giving me a straight recommendation, she wants me to meet again with the clinic. I asked if she has other patients with this issue (she does - many) but she said it is all dependent on individual circumstances, etc. This is all true. But FUCK, I just wanted her opinion and she just wouldn't give it to me.
Then, it happened. I broke down in tears. I didn't see it coming and still don't really know why I went over the edge. She was stunned and thrown by my reaction, as was I. She babbled a bit and I agreed to make the call to the clinic.
Lastly, I decided to press my luck and ask about nutrition advice. Are there specific food groups I should be focusing on more than others? Protein? Calcium? I have all the books with some of this info, but I wanted to know from her experience if she considers some things more important than others. What did she say? I should go see the nutritionist. Another appointment. Another question unanswered. I think I'll just make a greater effort with leafy greens.
Did I mention I am meeting tomorrow with an endocrinologist because she didn't want to tell me when to go off Metformin (for PCOS, not insulin issues) without his opinion?
No one tells you how scary all this pregnancy stuff is. The thing is, I am petrified that I'll do something wrong with this pregnancy, that I'll personally make a choice that will harm this baby. And it seems that with so many of these pregnancy-related things, there is no one right answer. There is only making "comfortable" choices or doing what "feels right." Apparently this is true from everything from choosing a car seat to the question of getting an epidural. For someone like me, that is just about the worst thing I can hear. How the hell do I know what's right if I've never done this before?
Are all OBs like this? Do they all refer you out for tough questions? Are they only good for listening to a doppler and measuring your uterus?
Hell, I have a doppler at home...
By the way, today didn't start off like this. It's actually a really happy day: KG and I have been married for 7 years as of noon today. We are going to a fab restaurant to celebrate later and shake off this mood. Happy Anniversary, KG. You are the best partner to this batshit crazy lady I could ever ask for.
Let's back up.
Over the last week, I have been feeling tremendous pressure about finding child care for The Nugget. I had 3 people in the span of as many days ask me the dreaded question, "Have you looked into child care yet?" Cue. Panic. Even though, to me, it sounds totally insane to look at day care when you are 15 weeks pregnant, apparently in Boston it is totally necessary. I started googling, talking to friends, and making some phone calls. Indeed, several places said that now is the time to look for September 2013. Yup, over a year in advance. So, I made some appointments to visit a few places in our area. Oh, and guess what else? You need to be ready to cough up nearly as much money per month as our rent for full time infant care. Again, cue panic. Since staying home is not an option for me (or KG) this is the reality. We'll just have to suck it up and eat ramen for a while.
So there's that.
I'll preface the next bit by saying I am a person who likes direct instruction. Don't make me guess what I should do. Just tell me exactly the right thing to do and when to do it. I follow directions like a champ. Teachers tended to love me for this reason. I generally did exactly what they asked, in order to get a good grade. Open ended assignments? That's another story.
On to today's appointment.
I saw the OB we met last month. Again, she was a bit late (30 mins) but was warm and friendly. All started well, with my uterus measuring just right and The Nugget's heartbeat sounding loud and strong. She said my blood pressure was "on the high end of normal" but that might have been from feeling annoyed that she ran 30 minutes late. Anyway, she told me not to worry about it (then why tell me?). Then, she asked if I had questions. She didn't know what she was in for.
I started off by asking about why my ovaries are still quite large from IVF (they mentioned it at the NT Scan). She kind of brushed it off saying it would go away after the baby and they wouldn't do anything about it now. I'm okay with that I guess, but it did leave me wondering.
Then I asked about exercise. How much should I be doing? For how long? Again, I felt like I got vague answers. It started out okay. She said I should be exercising every day (holy shit!). Then, I got the standard, "Don't do anything that makes you uncomfortable, breathless, too hot, etc." Okay, that's all fine. But, when I pushed her to tell me how long each day, etc. I got, "Whatever feels right." If I knew what felt right, I wouldn't be asking. It feels awfully right to sit and watch Real Housewives instead of going to the gym.
Next, was the heaviest topic. I've written before about the fact that I am on prescription medication for anxiety and depression. I am on very low doses and have consulted my psychiatrist and two years ago (when we began TTC) I even went to a special clinic that deals exclusively with pregnancy and psychiatric medication. At the time, everyone recommended I stay on my medication, even though they are Class C, because the risk of having a depressive or panic episode was overwhelmingly likely, especially postpartum. The research generally shows that the risk to me outweighs the risk to the baby and that the chemicals that the body of a depressed mother releases can be more damaging to the baby than the meds. They also said the amount passed through breastmilk is less than through the placenta, so it shouldn't be a problem. But, I wanted to make sure this OB is on board and that breastfeeding will not be an issue at the hospital. Now, I know this is a complicated issue and honestly the research sucks in this area because they aren't randomized studies. It may not be a clear cut issue at all. But again, instead of giving me a straight recommendation, she wants me to meet again with the clinic. I asked if she has other patients with this issue (she does - many) but she said it is all dependent on individual circumstances, etc. This is all true. But FUCK, I just wanted her opinion and she just wouldn't give it to me.
Then, it happened. I broke down in tears. I didn't see it coming and still don't really know why I went over the edge. She was stunned and thrown by my reaction, as was I. She babbled a bit and I agreed to make the call to the clinic.
Lastly, I decided to press my luck and ask about nutrition advice. Are there specific food groups I should be focusing on more than others? Protein? Calcium? I have all the books with some of this info, but I wanted to know from her experience if she considers some things more important than others. What did she say? I should go see the nutritionist. Another appointment. Another question unanswered. I think I'll just make a greater effort with leafy greens.
Did I mention I am meeting tomorrow with an endocrinologist because she didn't want to tell me when to go off Metformin (for PCOS, not insulin issues) without his opinion?
No one tells you how scary all this pregnancy stuff is. The thing is, I am petrified that I'll do something wrong with this pregnancy, that I'll personally make a choice that will harm this baby. And it seems that with so many of these pregnancy-related things, there is no one right answer. There is only making "comfortable" choices or doing what "feels right." Apparently this is true from everything from choosing a car seat to the question of getting an epidural. For someone like me, that is just about the worst thing I can hear. How the hell do I know what's right if I've never done this before?
Are all OBs like this? Do they all refer you out for tough questions? Are they only good for listening to a doppler and measuring your uterus?
Hell, I have a doppler at home...
By the way, today didn't start off like this. It's actually a really happy day: KG and I have been married for 7 years as of noon today. We are going to a fab restaurant to celebrate later and shake off this mood. Happy Anniversary, KG. You are the best partner to this batshit crazy lady I could ever ask for.
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Fear of Falling
I spent the last few days with a close friend and her parents at their home, on Cape Cod. We got a mani pedi. We went to a beautiful private beach. I read an entire book. There was even some shopping. Serious girl time and serious relaxation. It was heavenly.
I also took the opportunity of getting away this weekend to take a short vacation from worry about the baby. I took a big step and left my doppler at home. KG panicked when I told him my plan. He warned that there was no way he was going to follow me to the Cape with it if I regretted my decision. But it really felt right. This was a chance to put a little distance between me and my obsession with checking for a heartbeat for a couple of days, and I'm glad I did. Instead I focused on relaxing and being happy. I did a good job.
I have always had a fear of heights. Even climbing ladders or standing on high terraces is a problem. I get that sinking pit feeling in my stomach and unavoidably picture myself falling. The feeling of insecurity and imbalance takes hold and I lose my shit. Without someone or something to hold me steady at that height, I just feel lost. My feelings about this pregnancy have felt very similar until recently. I have been so afraid of loving with this baby because what if it was all taken from me in a heartbeat. What if I fell, and then got hurt? The doppler was holding me to the ground, making me feel safe and in control.
Taking a break from the doppler gave me a chance to explore how I feel without my safety net. I was pleasantly surprised at how relaxed and happy I felt. Feel. Honestly, I haven't felt this good since our pre-TTC days. Something could go wrong at any time. But, maybe it won't. Maybe it won't.
 |
| Sandwich, MA and pretty toes |
I have always had a fear of heights. Even climbing ladders or standing on high terraces is a problem. I get that sinking pit feeling in my stomach and unavoidably picture myself falling. The feeling of insecurity and imbalance takes hold and I lose my shit. Without someone or something to hold me steady at that height, I just feel lost. My feelings about this pregnancy have felt very similar until recently. I have been so afraid of loving with this baby because what if it was all taken from me in a heartbeat. What if I fell, and then got hurt? The doppler was holding me to the ground, making me feel safe and in control.
Taking a break from the doppler gave me a chance to explore how I feel without my safety net. I was pleasantly surprised at how relaxed and happy I felt. Feel. Honestly, I haven't felt this good since our pre-TTC days. Something could go wrong at any time. But, maybe it won't. Maybe it won't.
Saturday, June 9, 2012
Waiting Room
Apparently, I'm going to be spending a lot of time in my OB's waiting room.
First, the good news: Overall, I liked the doctor. She was warm and friendly. We got to hear the heartbeat on a doppler at 10 weeks 3 days. 155 bpm. She warned us it might take a while to find it, but then it was there right away. Music to our ears. Now of course I want to get a doppler for home use. I'm still debating about that. KG is convinced I'll use it every day if we get one. But, I think I could agree to only do it with him once or twice per week. Thoughts on home doppler use anyone?
We also scheduled the early and second semester integrated screening (NT Scan and the 18w scan). I see the doctor again in a month.We went over a lot of my records, talked about some vaccines His Royal Fabulousness and I need, got a breast exam and a vaginal culture, checked my cervix and uterus, tested protein and sugar in my urine, and discussed some additional genetic testing for Ashkenazi Jewish background that I haven't had. I only had the basic 4 tests for that, and now there are like 20. I need to call my medical insurance to see if those tests are covered. We also talked about my risk for PPD (higher because of my history of depression and anxiety). She supported the rec to stay on my medications for that and said overall everything looked perfect.
The bad news: It was quite the ordeal in the OB's office yesterday. We had a 3:00 appointment and she didn't walk in the room until 3:45. She also quickly saw another patient (one who had come late because she got her appt. time wrong) in the middle of our appointment. She seemed a bit scattered, but I think that might have been because she was running so, so late. I didn't end up getting out of there until 5. I was a little pissed off and even more so when she failed to call me last night with instructions about stopping my progesterone and Metformin. She said she wanted a bit of time to review my chart more before giving me instructions and that she would call after office hours. No call. Sigh. I guess I'll call Monday morning. Do you think this is a bad sign about her reliability, or just a bad day? She comes SO HIGHLY RECOMMENDED.
So, I guess this baby is deciding to stick. KG said I looked genuinely shocked when we heard the heartbeat. That's both amusing and sad to me. I'm still working on my promise to think positively, but I'm making headway. My mom and I have been discussing timing for a baby shower in Los Angeles, which makes me happy. I've started to allow myself to look ahead, make plans, and get a little excited. Bit by bit.
This week was a good one: I turned 32, went to a Red Sox game on free tickets, said goodbye to my students for the summer, and heard the sweet sound of my baby's ticker. All in all, not bad.
Enjoy listening to Fugazi's "Waiting Room." Bonus points to anyone who can sing along.
Sunday, June 3, 2012
The Demise of Rock and Roll and Thoughts on Belly Shots
I'm in the mood for bullets.
• Those of you who have been reading the blog for a while know about my love of music. It's a part of my identity that I cling to. But, I am grieving for a death in the music community this week, hardcore.
My favorite Boston radio station is going under this week, after being sold to Clear Channel. I have been depressed about it all week, probably disproportionately so. WFNX (started in 1983) was one of the last independent, alternative rock stations. It comes on the heels of another major rock station's demise (WBCN) in 2009.
Both of these stations were a major part of Boston's local rock scene. WFNX had entire blocks dedicated to showcasing local bands and sponsored live shows nearly every week. It was where I heard bands like The Raconteurs, The Black Keys, and Alabama Shakes for the first time. They had bands like The Pixies, The Smiths, and The Cure in heavy rotation with newer bands like Bombay Bicycle Club. It kept me in the loop. It kept me current. It kept me from feeling like a total dinosaur. Howard Stern warned me about the evils of Clear Channel years ago when he made the switch to satellite radio. I should have listened to him. Now, where will I hear about tiny bands, about to make it big?
• I saw The Avengers last week. It is AMAZING. Go see it.
• My thoughts on belly shots:
I hate my stomach. I have struggled with body image issues my entire life. I have posted before (I think) about how much I struggled with my weight for most of my life. Then in 2008 I went through a significant weight loss (although it wasn't enough to reach my goal weight), which improved my comfort in my own skin. I was at the gym consistently taking spin classes and I got a trainer for a while. I weighed my food and made pretty good choices. Then, since starting injectables (IUIs, then IVFs) my exercise routine went by the wayside. I just couldn't handle the emotional and physical fatigue. But, I've been okay with the softening of my thighs, butt, and belly. I haven't really gained any actual poundage, I am just...mushier. I am also 100% okay with gaining baby weight. I'll deal with the aftermath post-partum. BUT....then there is the idea of belly shots. My intention is to avoid belly shots until later on, perhaps 12, 14, or 16 weeks. I wouldn't show until then anyway right? No need to make people gross out at the site of my stomach.
But then, I was in a dressing room yesterday in yoga pants, and I noticed it. The beginnings of a bump. I'm 10 weeks tomorrow, so it makes sense. Honestly, I got a little excited at the sight. Then I realized, I was sucking in. I suck in every second I am standing. I always have. When I let go of the breath that was holding my tummy in, I realized the belly was WAY rounder and larger. The perfectionist in me wondered: when women take belly shots, are they sucking in? Or are they letting it all hang out? For those who are or have been pregnant, what do you do?
• Some folks have been asking about my symptoms. In general, I have gotten off very easy so far. I don't have many, and the ones I do have are very subtle. I've been very tired (naps and such) and had some passing queasiness. Also, I suddenly can't eat fish or beef, and want iced drinks instead of my normal room temperature preference. For the first few weeks, I couldn't regulate my temperature very well - I would swing from freezing to sweating a lot. I hadn't heard of that as a symptom before, but what can I say? I'm an original. But all of that seems to be settling down, which my RE says is normal between weeks 9-12.
• My intake appointment with the new OB's nurse is Wednesday. We meet with the actual OB on Friday afternoon. Not sure if that will be too early for a listen to the heartbeat with a doppler, but here's hoping.
• I also turn 32 on Wednesday. I almost forgot I have a birthday coming up, until KG asked what I wanted to do. I'm thinking this will be a quiet one, but the best birthday I've had since my 29th, before we started TTC.
In honor of the demise of WFNX, REM's "It's the End of the World As We Know It"
• Those of you who have been reading the blog for a while know about my love of music. It's a part of my identity that I cling to. But, I am grieving for a death in the music community this week, hardcore.
My favorite Boston radio station is going under this week, after being sold to Clear Channel. I have been depressed about it all week, probably disproportionately so. WFNX (started in 1983) was one of the last independent, alternative rock stations. It comes on the heels of another major rock station's demise (WBCN) in 2009.
Both of these stations were a major part of Boston's local rock scene. WFNX had entire blocks dedicated to showcasing local bands and sponsored live shows nearly every week. It was where I heard bands like The Raconteurs, The Black Keys, and Alabama Shakes for the first time. They had bands like The Pixies, The Smiths, and The Cure in heavy rotation with newer bands like Bombay Bicycle Club. It kept me in the loop. It kept me current. It kept me from feeling like a total dinosaur. Howard Stern warned me about the evils of Clear Channel years ago when he made the switch to satellite radio. I should have listened to him. Now, where will I hear about tiny bands, about to make it big?
• I saw The Avengers last week. It is AMAZING. Go see it.
• My thoughts on belly shots:
I hate my stomach. I have struggled with body image issues my entire life. I have posted before (I think) about how much I struggled with my weight for most of my life. Then in 2008 I went through a significant weight loss (although it wasn't enough to reach my goal weight), which improved my comfort in my own skin. I was at the gym consistently taking spin classes and I got a trainer for a while. I weighed my food and made pretty good choices. Then, since starting injectables (IUIs, then IVFs) my exercise routine went by the wayside. I just couldn't handle the emotional and physical fatigue. But, I've been okay with the softening of my thighs, butt, and belly. I haven't really gained any actual poundage, I am just...mushier. I am also 100% okay with gaining baby weight. I'll deal with the aftermath post-partum. BUT....then there is the idea of belly shots. My intention is to avoid belly shots until later on, perhaps 12, 14, or 16 weeks. I wouldn't show until then anyway right? No need to make people gross out at the site of my stomach.
But then, I was in a dressing room yesterday in yoga pants, and I noticed it. The beginnings of a bump. I'm 10 weeks tomorrow, so it makes sense. Honestly, I got a little excited at the sight. Then I realized, I was sucking in. I suck in every second I am standing. I always have. When I let go of the breath that was holding my tummy in, I realized the belly was WAY rounder and larger. The perfectionist in me wondered: when women take belly shots, are they sucking in? Or are they letting it all hang out? For those who are or have been pregnant, what do you do?
• Some folks have been asking about my symptoms. In general, I have gotten off very easy so far. I don't have many, and the ones I do have are very subtle. I've been very tired (naps and such) and had some passing queasiness. Also, I suddenly can't eat fish or beef, and want iced drinks instead of my normal room temperature preference. For the first few weeks, I couldn't regulate my temperature very well - I would swing from freezing to sweating a lot. I hadn't heard of that as a symptom before, but what can I say? I'm an original. But all of that seems to be settling down, which my RE says is normal between weeks 9-12.
• My intake appointment with the new OB's nurse is Wednesday. We meet with the actual OB on Friday afternoon. Not sure if that will be too early for a listen to the heartbeat with a doppler, but here's hoping.
• I also turn 32 on Wednesday. I almost forgot I have a birthday coming up, until KG asked what I wanted to do. I'm thinking this will be a quiet one, but the best birthday I've had since my 29th, before we started TTC.
In honor of the demise of WFNX, REM's "It's the End of the World As We Know It"
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
One more sleep
...until the ultrasound tomorrow.
Please, keep sending the good vibes that all is well with The Nugget.
Please, keep sending the good vibes that all is well with The Nugget.
Friday, May 18, 2012
Keeping Promises
Mel called me out. She said, now that I promised to not waste my entire pregnancy being petrified, I have to follow through and keep my promise. I'm doing my best. I truly am.
At work, I had to teach a series of lessons to my students about child abuse prevention. The lessons cover the normal stuff: strangers, good touch/bad touch, assertiveness...you get the idea. We teach it every year. We asked them during the lessons, "What can you do to keep yourself safe?" They suggested ideas like not talking to strangers, saying "No!" if someone made them feel uncomfortable, and never telling someone you are home alone. Yes, you still have to explicitly teach this stuff.
But, when I think about that question and what my own answer would be, the response is quite different. I think I have a handle on physical safety. I lived in major urban areas my entire life: first Los Angeles, and now Boston. I know about eye contact, staying alert, and looking like you know exactly where you are going at all times. I'm not so worried about keeping my body safe. It's the brain that's really vulnerable.
Emotional safety and protection is a really tricky issue. There is no feeling quite like that of being vulnerable. You could be vulnerable to another person (in a relationship for instance) or you can be vulnerable to life circumstances (as in infertility and other life crises). Everyone tries to protect themselves from heartache at one point or another, and we all have different methods of doing this. What can I do to keep myself safe? For me, it feels safer to constantly imagine the worst case scenario - to visualize the most frightening thing I can imagine. Somehow, I have convinced myself that if I can imagine a truly awful outcome to a situation in which I feel completely exposed and vulnerable, it won't hurt as badly if it comes to fruition. I've prepared myself for it, see?
This pattern sounds really depressing and cynical. KG kids me about it all the time. But I don't know how to change it. This is a long-time habit, that has been perfected over the course of my life.
I think perhaps my goal shouldn't be to stop it, but to balance it with also focusing on the flip side. Along with picturing tears and heartache, I should picture a round belly and kicks in my ribs. If I can get to a 50/50 ratio, that's major progress.
Like I said before, it is ridiculous to waste this time, purely based on the possibility it might end tomorrow. The fact is that I have no idea what's going to happen. I have no control. I have to accept that. So, I might as well reap as much joy as I can.
Since seeing the heartbeat on Monday (was that really only a few days ago? Longest. Week. Ever.), I feel better. I won't say I don't have moments of heart stopping, stomach dropping fear that there won't be a heartbeat at the next ultrasound. I do have my fair share of those moments. But, I also have a lot of moments where this is starting to feel a little more real. Where I relax a little. Where I smile knowingly. Hell, I even took a major step and unpacked some pregnancy books I had hidden in the closet since my miscarriage. This was a big thing for me, and I'm praying I didn't jinx myself.
Another accomplishment: I made an appointment with a regular OB for the week after my last ultrasound at the RE's office. It took me a few days to psych myself up to do it, but it's done. Of course, I keep picturing myself having to cancel the appointment because I've miscarried, but you can't expect me to have a complete emotional overhaul in one week, right?
At work, I had to teach a series of lessons to my students about child abuse prevention. The lessons cover the normal stuff: strangers, good touch/bad touch, assertiveness...you get the idea. We teach it every year. We asked them during the lessons, "What can you do to keep yourself safe?" They suggested ideas like not talking to strangers, saying "No!" if someone made them feel uncomfortable, and never telling someone you are home alone. Yes, you still have to explicitly teach this stuff.
But, when I think about that question and what my own answer would be, the response is quite different. I think I have a handle on physical safety. I lived in major urban areas my entire life: first Los Angeles, and now Boston. I know about eye contact, staying alert, and looking like you know exactly where you are going at all times. I'm not so worried about keeping my body safe. It's the brain that's really vulnerable.
Emotional safety and protection is a really tricky issue. There is no feeling quite like that of being vulnerable. You could be vulnerable to another person (in a relationship for instance) or you can be vulnerable to life circumstances (as in infertility and other life crises). Everyone tries to protect themselves from heartache at one point or another, and we all have different methods of doing this. What can I do to keep myself safe? For me, it feels safer to constantly imagine the worst case scenario - to visualize the most frightening thing I can imagine. Somehow, I have convinced myself that if I can imagine a truly awful outcome to a situation in which I feel completely exposed and vulnerable, it won't hurt as badly if it comes to fruition. I've prepared myself for it, see?
This pattern sounds really depressing and cynical. KG kids me about it all the time. But I don't know how to change it. This is a long-time habit, that has been perfected over the course of my life.
I think perhaps my goal shouldn't be to stop it, but to balance it with also focusing on the flip side. Along with picturing tears and heartache, I should picture a round belly and kicks in my ribs. If I can get to a 50/50 ratio, that's major progress.
Like I said before, it is ridiculous to waste this time, purely based on the possibility it might end tomorrow. The fact is that I have no idea what's going to happen. I have no control. I have to accept that. So, I might as well reap as much joy as I can.
Since seeing the heartbeat on Monday (was that really only a few days ago? Longest. Week. Ever.), I feel better. I won't say I don't have moments of heart stopping, stomach dropping fear that there won't be a heartbeat at the next ultrasound. I do have my fair share of those moments. But, I also have a lot of moments where this is starting to feel a little more real. Where I relax a little. Where I smile knowingly. Hell, I even took a major step and unpacked some pregnancy books I had hidden in the closet since my miscarriage. This was a big thing for me, and I'm praying I didn't jinx myself.
Another accomplishment: I made an appointment with a regular OB for the week after my last ultrasound at the RE's office. It took me a few days to psych myself up to do it, but it's done. Of course, I keep picturing myself having to cancel the appointment because I've miscarried, but you can't expect me to have a complete emotional overhaul in one week, right?
Monday, May 14, 2012
The only slightly longer version
To say we were nervous this morning doesn't even begin to describe how much adrenaline we had pumping. Thank goodness we had an 8:15 appointment this morning. Waiting until longer in the day would have been torture.
Once we were there, we didn't have to wait long before my name was called. I know the ultrasound tech well, and the minute she saw me she knew how petrified I was. We went into a teeny little room, without a fantastic spot for KG. So, he made do, at my feet, giving me reassuring rubs on my toes.
Thank goodness this tech is one who tells you every single thing she sees as she goes. She did all the normal checks, and then quickly zoomed in, and pointed out the heartbeat, letting us sit and stare at it for a bit.
That's when I lost it. I wept on the table, letting out a lot of the fear I had been holding in my chest for weeks. She then measured the fetus and told us it was measuring right on time. Again, more tears. She compared the size of the baby to a grain of rice. That blew KG's mind.
Before she finished, she zoomed in for the heartbeat one more time, printed us our copy of a picture*, and sent us on our way. Our next appointment is on May 30th, when we'll get released to an OB if all looks good.
At least for today, I feel relieved. It is starting to sink in that maybe, just maybe, I'll be a mom by New Years.
But, I thought about the tech a lot as I drove to school. Because I have been in treatment at this clinic since January of 2011, I know a lot about her. I know she just had her third IVF result in a BFN after needing to coast for several days before retrieval. I know she has premature ovarian failure. I know about her cute little dog. I know how hard her nephew's birthday parties are. I can't imagine how hard it is for her to see someone else be so happy about a teeny little heartbeat.
I'm also thinking of Belle today. Although her doctor saw a heartbeat at her first ultrasound today, she is feeling nervous because Pip measured a little bit small. Please go send her some love and support.
*I started a separate page for pregnancy updates and pictures. Click on "The Nugget" if you like that kind of thing. If not, feel free to skip.
Once we were there, we didn't have to wait long before my name was called. I know the ultrasound tech well, and the minute she saw me she knew how petrified I was. We went into a teeny little room, without a fantastic spot for KG. So, he made do, at my feet, giving me reassuring rubs on my toes.
Thank goodness this tech is one who tells you every single thing she sees as she goes. She did all the normal checks, and then quickly zoomed in, and pointed out the heartbeat, letting us sit and stare at it for a bit.
That's when I lost it. I wept on the table, letting out a lot of the fear I had been holding in my chest for weeks. She then measured the fetus and told us it was measuring right on time. Again, more tears. She compared the size of the baby to a grain of rice. That blew KG's mind.
Before she finished, she zoomed in for the heartbeat one more time, printed us our copy of a picture*, and sent us on our way. Our next appointment is on May 30th, when we'll get released to an OB if all looks good.
At least for today, I feel relieved. It is starting to sink in that maybe, just maybe, I'll be a mom by New Years.
But, I thought about the tech a lot as I drove to school. Because I have been in treatment at this clinic since January of 2011, I know a lot about her. I know she just had her third IVF result in a BFN after needing to coast for several days before retrieval. I know she has premature ovarian failure. I know about her cute little dog. I know how hard her nephew's birthday parties are. I can't imagine how hard it is for her to see someone else be so happy about a teeny little heartbeat.
I'm also thinking of Belle today. Although her doctor saw a heartbeat at her first ultrasound today, she is feeling nervous because Pip measured a little bit small. Please go send her some love and support.
*I started a separate page for pregnancy updates and pictures. Click on "The Nugget" if you like that kind of thing. If not, feel free to skip.
I can breathe a little
Just a dash through to say all went well this morning. The baby measuring right on track and the heartrate was 130bpm! More later...
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Countdown
As Belle would say, I have 2 more sleeps before the ultrasound on Monday.
I'll be 7 weeks then. There won't be any ambiguity - either we will see a heartbeat or we will know it is over.
It isn't any secret I've been in a bad place while we wait for that day. In the past, I've written about my scars and the ridges are definitely showing. We haven't been pregnant since 2010 and we know how that ended. I can tell KG has come to the end of his rope with trying to soothe me or make me feel more positively about the outcome this time. He isn't angry with me, but he's frustrated that he can't fix me right now. He can't make me assume the best.
I keep playing 2 different scenarios in my mind. The one that ends in joyous tears, and the one that ends in the other kind. If it isn't good news, how am I supposed to live through that again? I think back to the pain of those days and it just seems unimaginable that I could be forced to go through it for a second time. But, it happens. Unfortunately, when you are a part of this community, you are constantly reminded that it happens over and over again.
One decision I did make is this: if we do see a heartbeat on Monday, I'm making some changes. Although there is nothing I can do to avoid being scared between every ultrasound and chance to check on the baby, I refuse to waste my entire pregnancy feeling as petrified as I do right now. Somehow, I will force myself to try and enjoy this time, because I worked so damn hard to get here.
I have read several blog posts about the huge wave of BFPs lately in the blogosphere. They have had an undercurrent of pain in almost every one. It's understandable. I lived through several of those waves in the last 2 years, and they hurt me every time. Simultaneously, I was happy for and upset by those pregnancies.
In my logical mind, I knew those women had often been through hell and back with infertility and deserved those healthy pregnancies. But, I could never shake the feeling that it wasn't fair because it wasn't me. Now that I am one of those with a pregnancy announcement, it feels strange. Maybe I am so used to being on the other side, that I can't quite compute what it will mean if I do end up one of those lucky ones.
For tonight and tomorrow night, we sit in the nebulous place of not knowing. Maybe that isn't such a bad place to be. At least for this weekend, we can still believe in the 50/50 shot at a happy ending.
"So Hard" by the Dixie Chicks
I'll be 7 weeks then. There won't be any ambiguity - either we will see a heartbeat or we will know it is over.
It isn't any secret I've been in a bad place while we wait for that day. In the past, I've written about my scars and the ridges are definitely showing. We haven't been pregnant since 2010 and we know how that ended. I can tell KG has come to the end of his rope with trying to soothe me or make me feel more positively about the outcome this time. He isn't angry with me, but he's frustrated that he can't fix me right now. He can't make me assume the best.
I keep playing 2 different scenarios in my mind. The one that ends in joyous tears, and the one that ends in the other kind. If it isn't good news, how am I supposed to live through that again? I think back to the pain of those days and it just seems unimaginable that I could be forced to go through it for a second time. But, it happens. Unfortunately, when you are a part of this community, you are constantly reminded that it happens over and over again.
One decision I did make is this: if we do see a heartbeat on Monday, I'm making some changes. Although there is nothing I can do to avoid being scared between every ultrasound and chance to check on the baby, I refuse to waste my entire pregnancy feeling as petrified as I do right now. Somehow, I will force myself to try and enjoy this time, because I worked so damn hard to get here.
I have read several blog posts about the huge wave of BFPs lately in the blogosphere. They have had an undercurrent of pain in almost every one. It's understandable. I lived through several of those waves in the last 2 years, and they hurt me every time. Simultaneously, I was happy for and upset by those pregnancies.
In my logical mind, I knew those women had often been through hell and back with infertility and deserved those healthy pregnancies. But, I could never shake the feeling that it wasn't fair because it wasn't me. Now that I am one of those with a pregnancy announcement, it feels strange. Maybe I am so used to being on the other side, that I can't quite compute what it will mean if I do end up one of those lucky ones.
For tonight and tomorrow night, we sit in the nebulous place of not knowing. Maybe that isn't such a bad place to be. At least for this weekend, we can still believe in the 50/50 shot at a happy ending.
"So Hard" by the Dixie Chicks
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Top 10 Things I Wish I Could Make Myself Do
10. Go to the gym
9. Finish the novel I have been reading for 2 months
8. Stop Googling "pregnant no symptoms"
7. Not allow the stress of teaching to permeate every minute of my day
6. Resist the urge to call and move Monday's ultrasound to Friday
5. Cease begging SKB and other friends to talk me down off the ledge every day, when I am convinced this pregnancy will end in miscarriage
4. Eat some other food group besides carbs
3. Thoroughly clean my apartment
2. Absorb some of KG's ability to relax and go to a happy place
1. Start believing that this pregnancy will be a happy, healthy one, ending full term with a take-home baby
Big sigh.
9. Finish the novel I have been reading for 2 months
8. Stop Googling "pregnant no symptoms"
7. Not allow the stress of teaching to permeate every minute of my day
6. Resist the urge to call and move Monday's ultrasound to Friday
5. Cease begging SKB and other friends to talk me down off the ledge every day, when I am convinced this pregnancy will end in miscarriage
4. Eat some other food group besides carbs
3. Thoroughly clean my apartment
2. Absorb some of KG's ability to relax and go to a happy place
1. Start believing that this pregnancy will be a happy, healthy one, ending full term with a take-home baby
Big sigh.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
"Why can't you just be happy?"
I know I had good reasons for putting off the ultrasound until 7 weeks. I know I did.
What were they again?
This last week felt never ending. It really did. Although work is totally nuts (5 weeks of the school year left and literally over 20 events and deadlines in the meantime) time seemed to slow down enough to let me freak out about 5 times per day.
The thoughts in my head go something like this:
"I have no symptoms. I know this is another missed miscarriage."
"No, you have a hand picked embryo, high betas, and progesterone. Plus, your due date is New Year's Day! That's good luck! You're good."
"But, this has gone badly before. This will be the same."
"It's just too early. You are acting like a crazy person! Some people never get morning sickness."
"I wonder when I should schedule a baby shower in Los Angeles? I have a wedding to attend there in October."
"Don't think too far in the future, you'll jinx it. Don't blog about it, you'll jinx it. Don't be happy, you'll jinx it."
"You'll feel better when you see the heartbeat on the 14th."
"But what if you miscarry after that?"
You get the idea.
I have resorted to stupid, self soothing behavior. For example, I was in CVS looking for a Mother's Day card for my mom, and saw FRERs were on sale. It has been over a week since my betas, confirming I am pregnant. But there they wereon the shelf, three for $11.99 to boot.
Yeah, I bought some. Why?
Even if I did miscarry, I would still have a high enough hcg level right now to give me a BFP. But, it made me feel better for 2 minutes to see a fast, dark test line that came back darker than the control line.
This level of anxiety isn't good. It really isn't. But it feels out of my control, like a primal reaction. I can't seem to get attached, be happy, or focus on the positive. It's almost like an out of body experience. Without any symptoms or additional betas, I have nothing to latch onto. Nothing that makes me feel pregnant.
A friend who is waiting on the results of her recent IUI told me that because several people we know (along with myself) have gotten BFPs, that she feels like she is doomed for a BFN. Like there aren't enough BFPs to go around. I completely understand how she feels.
In the last two weeks, several bloggers (Unaffected, Belle, Miss Conception, Mrs. Rochester, Lanie - did I miss anyone?) have also announced BFPs along with me. I am thrilled for all of us. We all deserve to get our babies after battling infertility and loss for so long. But, that cynical part of my brain kicks in sometimes. Are there enough take-home babies for all of us to be successful?
I really, really hope so.
I also can't help but think of the bloggers whom I know and love that have not yet gotten their BFPs or had a recent loss. It hurts my heart to know my BFP caused them any pain. This blogging community is special, but complicated. I know how it is to feel happy for another blogger and yet to feel disconnected and distant from them at the same time, because the sameness of the shared journey shifted.
I'm really hoping that all of you stick with me anyway.
What were they again?
This last week felt never ending. It really did. Although work is totally nuts (5 weeks of the school year left and literally over 20 events and deadlines in the meantime) time seemed to slow down enough to let me freak out about 5 times per day.
The thoughts in my head go something like this:
"I have no symptoms. I know this is another missed miscarriage."
"No, you have a hand picked embryo, high betas, and progesterone. Plus, your due date is New Year's Day! That's good luck! You're good."
"But, this has gone badly before. This will be the same."
"It's just too early. You are acting like a crazy person! Some people never get morning sickness."
"I wonder when I should schedule a baby shower in Los Angeles? I have a wedding to attend there in October."
"Don't think too far in the future, you'll jinx it. Don't blog about it, you'll jinx it. Don't be happy, you'll jinx it."
"You'll feel better when you see the heartbeat on the 14th."
"But what if you miscarry after that?"
You get the idea.
I have resorted to stupid, self soothing behavior. For example, I was in CVS looking for a Mother's Day card for my mom, and saw FRERs were on sale. It has been over a week since my betas, confirming I am pregnant. But there they wereon the shelf, three for $11.99 to boot.
Yeah, I bought some. Why?
Even if I did miscarry, I would still have a high enough hcg level right now to give me a BFP. But, it made me feel better for 2 minutes to see a fast, dark test line that came back darker than the control line.
This level of anxiety isn't good. It really isn't. But it feels out of my control, like a primal reaction. I can't seem to get attached, be happy, or focus on the positive. It's almost like an out of body experience. Without any symptoms or additional betas, I have nothing to latch onto. Nothing that makes me feel pregnant.
A friend who is waiting on the results of her recent IUI told me that because several people we know (along with myself) have gotten BFPs, that she feels like she is doomed for a BFN. Like there aren't enough BFPs to go around. I completely understand how she feels.
In the last two weeks, several bloggers (Unaffected, Belle, Miss Conception, Mrs. Rochester, Lanie - did I miss anyone?) have also announced BFPs along with me. I am thrilled for all of us. We all deserve to get our babies after battling infertility and loss for so long. But, that cynical part of my brain kicks in sometimes. Are there enough take-home babies for all of us to be successful?
I really, really hope so.
I also can't help but think of the bloggers whom I know and love that have not yet gotten their BFPs or had a recent loss. It hurts my heart to know my BFP caused them any pain. This blogging community is special, but complicated. I know how it is to feel happy for another blogger and yet to feel disconnected and distant from them at the same time, because the sameness of the shared journey shifted.
I'm really hoping that all of you stick with me anyway.
Monday, April 30, 2012
White Knuckles
This post contains very delicate information. If you know me in my non-blogosphere life, please don't share the information below. We will share as we feel ready.
This week, I felt shy about posting. Maybe it's because I'm extremely superstitious about "jinxing" during the two week wait. Maybe it's because I was trying so hard to distract myself from how crazy I was acting. Maybe I was too busy.
Nah.
I wasn't posting because I was ashamed. Consider this post a confession.
As some of you know, because of my PCOS, I never get natural periods anymore. Since my miscarriage in August 2010, I have had exactly one natural period. So, as you can imagine, KG and I have had very few actual two week waits in our experience with TTC. We've had a few weird Clomid cycles, a couple of failed IUIs, and one failed IVF before now. In all those cases, either my period came quickly (short luteal phase) or we had to cancel the cycle.
So, I've had a lot of time to forget what a real, long TWW is like. And boy this was a doozey. All the lessons I learned when we miscarried went out this window. I swore then that I would remember that early BFPs and good betas do not mean you end up with a baby, so I wouldn't torture myself in the future with POAS. I would be patient. I would just wait for things to happen in time.
However, a year and a half later, I forgot all of that. I hang my head in shame as I write this. Last week, I became a testing addict once again. I was out of control and spent more money than I care to admit.
No kidding - 15 tests between 7dp5dt and 12dp5dt (Friday).
Even worse, I tested using multiple brands, different times of day, and obsessively photographed them, saved them in a Ziplock bag in my bathroom, arranged them in specific ways to analyze them, blah blah blah.
Seriously, it was behavior that was completely beyond me. Some might shake their head and laugh, but until you have been in this position, you don't know how you'll react.
The good news: the reason I kept testing and testing is because I got BFPs all week.
The bad news: the darkness of the lines on the tests were highly variable by time of day, and scared the crap out of me. (I must be the only weirdo in the world who had darker FRER's (supposedly the most sensitive test) in the afternoon than with first morning urine. This issue deserves a whole separate post. Lesson learned? Internet cheapie tests are way more accurate for me.)
Although I was tempted to jump on the blog and post every picture of every positive test, something held me back. Despite seeing 2 lines on all of these tests, and seeing the word "Pregnant" on a digital test, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. If I said it publicly, maybe it would all disappear. Maybe I would get my period within hours of sharing. Maybe it would be my fault.
Then, Friday (12dp5dt) was beta day. I held out hope for a number around 100. I always get my blood drawn in the morning, and wait for an afternoon phone call. However, I checked my phone around lunch time, and saw I had a voicemail. I was shocked because it was so early, and my stomach was in knots because I didn't know if it was a good or a bad sign.
It was a good sign. The nurse enthusiastically said that our number was 859!
I sat at my desk, replaying the voicemail over and over to make sure I heard the number right. I even called her back, to ask her to repeat the number. I was so prepared for bad news, that I didn't know how to process good news.
Since the call, I've felt really stunned. Muted. Cautious. It really hasn't sunk in yet. How could something go right? KG is with me on this one. He's happy and optimistic, but we both have an undercurrent of white knuckles. Despite this, we did celebrate with a dinner out Friday night, and talked about the future. Superstitions be damned.
My mom has been emailing, encouraging me to see this as a totally new, separate experience from our first pregnancy. She says we should expect it to be a healthy, uneventful pregnancy, one that deserves to be enjoyed. I know she's right. I know we can't spend every day petrified and expecting the worst to happen. It's just so hard.
As I said to a fellow IFer the other day, "Once you've taken the pill and seen the Matrix, there's no going back."
But, unless something changes, I really am pregnant.
We went back in this morning to make sure my number is doubling. We got 3,247! Ultrasound in 2 weeks...
Please stick little one.
*********************
I'm sorry I disappeared. Blogging is a funny thing. I wrote about every intimate detail of this cycle, but when it came to the end of the cycle, I hesitated to put it out there. I've felt guilty about this for a few days. You all have
shown me so much support throughout this IVF cycle (and the other
cycles that have come before it), so it feels strange not to share what's
been going on. Additionally, this is my space. I use the blog to write about whatever feelings or issues I am dealing with. Nothing is a bigger issue for me right now than my efforts to be a mother. So, superstitiousness be damned. Here's what's been happening in the last 9 days.
*******************
This week, I felt shy about posting. Maybe it's because I'm extremely superstitious about "jinxing" during the two week wait. Maybe it's because I was trying so hard to distract myself from how crazy I was acting. Maybe I was too busy.
Nah.
I wasn't posting because I was ashamed. Consider this post a confession.
As some of you know, because of my PCOS, I never get natural periods anymore. Since my miscarriage in August 2010, I have had exactly one natural period. So, as you can imagine, KG and I have had very few actual two week waits in our experience with TTC. We've had a few weird Clomid cycles, a couple of failed IUIs, and one failed IVF before now. In all those cases, either my period came quickly (short luteal phase) or we had to cancel the cycle.
So, I've had a lot of time to forget what a real, long TWW is like. And boy this was a doozey. All the lessons I learned when we miscarried went out this window. I swore then that I would remember that early BFPs and good betas do not mean you end up with a baby, so I wouldn't torture myself in the future with POAS. I would be patient. I would just wait for things to happen in time.
However, a year and a half later, I forgot all of that. I hang my head in shame as I write this. Last week, I became a testing addict once again. I was out of control and spent more money than I care to admit.
No kidding - 15 tests between 7dp5dt and 12dp5dt (Friday).
Even worse, I tested using multiple brands, different times of day, and obsessively photographed them, saved them in a Ziplock bag in my bathroom, arranged them in specific ways to analyze them, blah blah blah.
Seriously, it was behavior that was completely beyond me. Some might shake their head and laugh, but until you have been in this position, you don't know how you'll react.
The good news: the reason I kept testing and testing is because I got BFPs all week.
The bad news: the darkness of the lines on the tests were highly variable by time of day, and scared the crap out of me. (I must be the only weirdo in the world who had darker FRER's (supposedly the most sensitive test) in the afternoon than with first morning urine. This issue deserves a whole separate post. Lesson learned? Internet cheapie tests are way more accurate for me.)
Although I was tempted to jump on the blog and post every picture of every positive test, something held me back. Despite seeing 2 lines on all of these tests, and seeing the word "Pregnant" on a digital test, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. If I said it publicly, maybe it would all disappear. Maybe I would get my period within hours of sharing. Maybe it would be my fault.
Then, Friday (12dp5dt) was beta day. I held out hope for a number around 100. I always get my blood drawn in the morning, and wait for an afternoon phone call. However, I checked my phone around lunch time, and saw I had a voicemail. I was shocked because it was so early, and my stomach was in knots because I didn't know if it was a good or a bad sign.
It was a good sign. The nurse enthusiastically said that our number was 859!
I sat at my desk, replaying the voicemail over and over to make sure I heard the number right. I even called her back, to ask her to repeat the number. I was so prepared for bad news, that I didn't know how to process good news.
Since the call, I've felt really stunned. Muted. Cautious. It really hasn't sunk in yet. How could something go right? KG is with me on this one. He's happy and optimistic, but we both have an undercurrent of white knuckles. Despite this, we did celebrate with a dinner out Friday night, and talked about the future. Superstitions be damned.
My mom has been emailing, encouraging me to see this as a totally new, separate experience from our first pregnancy. She says we should expect it to be a healthy, uneventful pregnancy, one that deserves to be enjoyed. I know she's right. I know we can't spend every day petrified and expecting the worst to happen. It's just so hard.
As I said to a fellow IFer the other day, "Once you've taken the pill and seen the Matrix, there's no going back."
But, unless something changes, I really am pregnant.
We went back in this morning to make sure my number is doubling. We got 3,247! Ultrasound in 2 weeks...
Please stick little one.
Saturday, April 21, 2012
In case you were wondering, I also like to torture myself
Why, oh why, do I engage in self-defeating behavior?
Last night, I had a vivid dream about a BFP. I woke up from the dream at about 6:30am and couldn't go back to sleep because I thought it was a sign I should test at 6dp5dt. 6 days. Really, really early. The half-asleep optimistic part of my brain convinced the more logical part of my brain that this was a great idea. I proceeded to get out of bed and POAS.
Results? No shocker. Stark white BFN on a FRER. My chin then dropped to my chest and positivity went in the trash with the test. When KG woke up, I sheepishly confessed my sin and he just shook his head. Was he surprised I did this? Not. One. Bit.
I can't believe I did this to myself. I have one FRER left and a bunch of Wondfos and I feel like someone should remove them from my house. Clearly, I can't be trusted.
So, today KG and I have decided to get out of house and go downtown, near the site of our wedding to the Boston Aquarium. Outside the aquarium, they have a huge seal tank. Every time we feel sad, this is where we head to perk up our spirits. It never fails.
On that note, I leave you with the Alabama Shakes, "Hold On."
Last night, I had a vivid dream about a BFP. I woke up from the dream at about 6:30am and couldn't go back to sleep because I thought it was a sign I should test at 6dp5dt. 6 days. Really, really early. The half-asleep optimistic part of my brain convinced the more logical part of my brain that this was a great idea. I proceeded to get out of bed and POAS.
Results? No shocker. Stark white BFN on a FRER. My chin then dropped to my chest and positivity went in the trash with the test. When KG woke up, I sheepishly confessed my sin and he just shook his head. Was he surprised I did this? Not. One. Bit.
I can't believe I did this to myself. I have one FRER left and a bunch of Wondfos and I feel like someone should remove them from my house. Clearly, I can't be trusted.
So, today KG and I have decided to get out of house and go downtown, near the site of our wedding to the Boston Aquarium. Outside the aquarium, they have a huge seal tank. Every time we feel sad, this is where we head to perk up our spirits. It never fails.
On that note, I leave you with the Alabama Shakes, "Hold On."
Thursday, April 19, 2012
In case you were wondering, I have no patience
It is a bullet kind of day.
• Someone said to me this week that, because I did IVF, this wasn't a "real two week wait." I beg to differ. This one is worse than any other I've had.
• I believe my clinic is being especially cruel making me wait until the 27th for my beta.
• While I am trying not to obsess on every single sensation in my body right now, it is almost harder not to obsess on the lack of anything significant going on in my body.
• I started my Vivelle dots today.
• We found out the lab froze 6 embryos! We are thrilled we got so many, especially considering the outcome of IVF#1.
And now for a non-bullet. I'm wondering what you guys think of something that has been on my mind.
I keep reading about all of these amazing ritual type things some cycle buddies are doing during their TWW - things like meditation, conversations with the embies, visualization, etc. Those are amazing, positive things.
But...am I a bad person because other than not drinking alcohol or caffeine, eating good food, and taking it easy, I am doing nothing related to this embryo?
I have been thinking about this the last few days. Other than getting acupuncture a few days before and one day after transfer, DH giving my belly a kiss each day, and reiterating to each other how much we hope this works, I am finding it more comfortable to maintain some kind of emotional distance from the fact that I am technically PUPO. Don't get me wrong, I am trying hard to be positive and hopeful. But, for me, it just feels safer to not start seeing this as a real pregnancy until it feels safe to do so. Does that make sense? I'm feeling kind of guilty.
Who am I kidding? I won't feel "safe" about any pregnancy until I have a screaming baby in my arms.
• Someone said to me this week that, because I did IVF, this wasn't a "real two week wait." I beg to differ. This one is worse than any other I've had.
• I believe my clinic is being especially cruel making me wait until the 27th for my beta.
• While I am trying not to obsess on every single sensation in my body right now, it is almost harder not to obsess on the lack of anything significant going on in my body.
• I started my Vivelle dots today.
• We found out the lab froze 6 embryos! We are thrilled we got so many, especially considering the outcome of IVF#1.
And now for a non-bullet. I'm wondering what you guys think of something that has been on my mind.
I keep reading about all of these amazing ritual type things some cycle buddies are doing during their TWW - things like meditation, conversations with the embies, visualization, etc. Those are amazing, positive things.
But...am I a bad person because other than not drinking alcohol or caffeine, eating good food, and taking it easy, I am doing nothing related to this embryo?
I have been thinking about this the last few days. Other than getting acupuncture a few days before and one day after transfer, DH giving my belly a kiss each day, and reiterating to each other how much we hope this works, I am finding it more comfortable to maintain some kind of emotional distance from the fact that I am technically PUPO. Don't get me wrong, I am trying hard to be positive and hopeful. But, for me, it just feels safer to not start seeing this as a real pregnancy until it feels safe to do so. Does that make sense? I'm feeling kind of guilty.
Who am I kidding? I won't feel "safe" about any pregnancy until I have a screaming baby in my arms.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Scar Tissue
I have a lot of tattoos. I started young and have accumulated 9 of them, although I wish it was more. Each one of them, for better or for worse, reminds me of a different time in my life. Some of them are beautiful. Some of them I can't believe I actually chose to put on my body. Some I have covered with new ink, and some I want to elaborate on. People who don't love tattoos don't understand why I would subject myself to intense physical pain to put a permanent mark on my body. They don't see the payoff. They have a point - technically, tattoos are scars. Occasionally, when I am in the shower or scratching an itch, I run my fingers over my tattoos, and can often feel tiny ridges of scar tissue. But mostly, when I look at my tattoos, I see the pretty and not the ugly ridges underneath.
KG has had a couple of minor surgeries to remove basal cell and suspected basal cell spots. Some scars are bigger than others, but the one on his face is barely perceptible. This tiny line that marks the spot of something that was harmful that is now gone. But, the one on his belly is considerable. It wasn't as carefully done, so it kept a purple color and rough edges. The scars are different shapes and sizes, all garnered with considerable pain. But, when I look at KG's scars, I am more grateful that they removed the cancerous cells than I am upset about them leaving such a mark.
Unfortunately, KG and I have accumulated a lot of new scars over the last couple of years. These are the kind that don't show on the surface. These scars become visible at specific times. Years of frustration, pain, sadness, and disillusionment caused the ridges to build. They have built up so much that we can't see past them. Over the last week, KG remarked to me that we are more prepared for bad news than good news. Every time the phone rang with excellent news of the retrieval, embryo reports, and the transfer date, our hearts were in our throats. We were certain the news would be bad. We knew we were going to be disappointed again. Scars.
In a few hours, we have our embryo transfer. Once again, I am up before 7am, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Scars.
Do scars ever really disappear? Or do they just become less and less noticeable with time?
We are hoping one of these days we can focus on the pretty and stop running our fingers on the ridges.
KG has had a couple of minor surgeries to remove basal cell and suspected basal cell spots. Some scars are bigger than others, but the one on his face is barely perceptible. This tiny line that marks the spot of something that was harmful that is now gone. But, the one on his belly is considerable. It wasn't as carefully done, so it kept a purple color and rough edges. The scars are different shapes and sizes, all garnered with considerable pain. But, when I look at KG's scars, I am more grateful that they removed the cancerous cells than I am upset about them leaving such a mark.
Unfortunately, KG and I have accumulated a lot of new scars over the last couple of years. These are the kind that don't show on the surface. These scars become visible at specific times. Years of frustration, pain, sadness, and disillusionment caused the ridges to build. They have built up so much that we can't see past them. Over the last week, KG remarked to me that we are more prepared for bad news than good news. Every time the phone rang with excellent news of the retrieval, embryo reports, and the transfer date, our hearts were in our throats. We were certain the news would be bad. We knew we were going to be disappointed again. Scars.
In a few hours, we have our embryo transfer. Once again, I am up before 7am, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Scars.
Do scars ever really disappear? Or do they just become less and less noticeable with time?
We are hoping one of these days we can focus on the pretty and stop running our fingers on the ridges.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Anyone interested in an IVF update?
If you aren't into numbers and nitty-gritty, feel free to skip this post. Sometimes I like analyzing numbers, so you'll have to indulge me.
So last cycle, My med protocol looked like this:
BCP for weeks and weeks
Lupron (10iu to start, then 5iu when stims started)
75iu of Menopur and 150iu of Gonal-F for the first 3 days of stimming
150iu of Menopur and 150iu of Gonal-F for the next 7 days
Pregnyl trigger
23 eggs retrieved, 19 mature
That cycle, my estrogen looked like this:
15 (4th day of stims), 187, 404, 1,085, 1,940 (triggered that night) - 11 days of stims
This cycle, the protocol was nearly identical, except for one thing: she started me at 150/150 of Menopur and Gonal-F right off the bat. As a result, my estrogen rose a bit more quickly.
Here have been my estrogen numbers since Monday:
Mon (4th day of stims): 40, 254, 684, today: 1608
Follicle count: 14 on the right, 4 on the left
Largest follicle today: 16mm
The nurse told me to stop Gonal F tonight (but still do 150u of Menopur - fun!). She thinks tonight will be the last night of stims, trigger tomorrow, and retrieval on Tuesday.
We are nearing the finish line.
So, I'm considering taking off both the day of retrieval and the day after. I have 2 reasons:
1. I was in a lot of pain last time. Seriously, I was not prepared to be in that much pain.
2. If our results are similar to last time, I really, really don't want to have to take that call with children all around me. That was so, so awful in January.
Last thought: Please God, let the ICSI work.
I'm curious for the experts to answer this question: With numbers rising this quickly, how worried should I be about OHSS? I mean, they are reducing my stims tonight, but I went from 684 to 1608 in 24 hours....
Fitting, for the end of a cycle.
So last cycle, My med protocol looked like this:
BCP for weeks and weeks
Lupron (10iu to start, then 5iu when stims started)
75iu of Menopur and 150iu of Gonal-F for the first 3 days of stimming
150iu of Menopur and 150iu of Gonal-F for the next 7 days
Pregnyl trigger
23 eggs retrieved, 19 mature
That cycle, my estrogen looked like this:
15 (4th day of stims), 187, 404, 1,085, 1,940 (triggered that night) - 11 days of stims
This cycle, the protocol was nearly identical, except for one thing: she started me at 150/150 of Menopur and Gonal-F right off the bat. As a result, my estrogen rose a bit more quickly.
Here have been my estrogen numbers since Monday:
Mon (4th day of stims): 40, 254, 684, today: 1608
Follicle count: 14 on the right, 4 on the left
Largest follicle today: 16mm
The nurse told me to stop Gonal F tonight (but still do 150u of Menopur - fun!). She thinks tonight will be the last night of stims, trigger tomorrow, and retrieval on Tuesday.
We are nearing the finish line.
So, I'm considering taking off both the day of retrieval and the day after. I have 2 reasons:
1. I was in a lot of pain last time. Seriously, I was not prepared to be in that much pain.
2. If our results are similar to last time, I really, really don't want to have to take that call with children all around me. That was so, so awful in January.
Last thought: Please God, let the ICSI work.
I'm curious for the experts to answer this question: With numbers rising this quickly, how worried should I be about OHSS? I mean, they are reducing my stims tonight, but I went from 684 to 1608 in 24 hours....
Fitting, for the end of a cycle.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Keep 'em Close
Well, it's official. Redux is officially underway. I've done two Lupron shots so far. It's always right about now that the cycle in front of me seems exceedingly long and drawn out, despite retrieval only being a few weeks away.
Needless to say, I am no stranger to fear regarding treatment cycles. This one is no different. I'm pretty nervous all around: nervous about success, nervous about failure, and nervous about the in-between. It is really this time of limbo, between meds and procedure, that these fears bubble up the most. I keep trying to close my eyes and picture a baby bump. Sometimes that vision is clear, and others times I can't seem to conjure the image.
As I mentioned, when I get into a bad place, worrying about our TTC future, I always go back to planning for life beyond TTC. When His Royal Fabulousness and I have these discussions, this is the mental picture I create:
Not bad, huh?
I haven't been shy about expressing my love and appreciation for KG on this blog. I am a lucky girl. I'm not saying we don't occasionally bicker or get on each other's nerves. We have even had rocky times in the past. But I will say that we try to live by the rule of never going to bed angry and we make a concerted effort not to take each other for granted.
This past week, while visiting my parents and friends in Los Angeles, I was reminded of how important it is not to let a day go by (or even leave the house or end a phone call) without telling loved ones how much you care for them.
On Monday, we got some terrible news. A close friend of my father's died while on a biking trip in Death Valley. George and his wife were close with my parents for over 40 years, and this was a very unexpected and tragic death. He was a very kind, loving, and generous person who will sorely be missed.
His death really got me thinking. We do not know the reasons why, but George and his wife never had children. My parents speculated over the years, but respected their privacy and never asked. Of course, as an infertile woman, I have to wonder whether they tried to have children and failed, or whether they made an independent decision to live child-free. Either way, they had a wonderful, solid marriage and lived happily together.
I can't get his wife out of my mind. Although she has many friends surrounding her right now, in essence, she is alone. She wrote to my folks saying that she has lost her sweetheart, her best friend, her partner. I can't imagine her pain. I wonder whether her grief is compounded by the fact that she has no children to lean on during this time. Is she regretting their decision/fate? Is she wishing there were children to hold her up right now?
This is hitting a little close to home. The thought of being left alone, if anything happened to KG, is just too overwhelming to bear. Although our TTC efforts are far from over, it is easy to see myself in her shoes.
When chatting with a friend today, she summed it up. She said that all you can do is enjoy every minute together that you can, and never forget to say, "I love you." Well said.
I think I'll call KG right now.
Needless to say, I am no stranger to fear regarding treatment cycles. This one is no different. I'm pretty nervous all around: nervous about success, nervous about failure, and nervous about the in-between. It is really this time of limbo, between meds and procedure, that these fears bubble up the most. I keep trying to close my eyes and picture a baby bump. Sometimes that vision is clear, and others times I can't seem to conjure the image.
As I mentioned, when I get into a bad place, worrying about our TTC future, I always go back to planning for life beyond TTC. When His Royal Fabulousness and I have these discussions, this is the mental picture I create:
I haven't been shy about expressing my love and appreciation for KG on this blog. I am a lucky girl. I'm not saying we don't occasionally bicker or get on each other's nerves. We have even had rocky times in the past. But I will say that we try to live by the rule of never going to bed angry and we make a concerted effort not to take each other for granted.
This past week, while visiting my parents and friends in Los Angeles, I was reminded of how important it is not to let a day go by (or even leave the house or end a phone call) without telling loved ones how much you care for them.
On Monday, we got some terrible news. A close friend of my father's died while on a biking trip in Death Valley. George and his wife were close with my parents for over 40 years, and this was a very unexpected and tragic death. He was a very kind, loving, and generous person who will sorely be missed.
His death really got me thinking. We do not know the reasons why, but George and his wife never had children. My parents speculated over the years, but respected their privacy and never asked. Of course, as an infertile woman, I have to wonder whether they tried to have children and failed, or whether they made an independent decision to live child-free. Either way, they had a wonderful, solid marriage and lived happily together.
I can't get his wife out of my mind. Although she has many friends surrounding her right now, in essence, she is alone. She wrote to my folks saying that she has lost her sweetheart, her best friend, her partner. I can't imagine her pain. I wonder whether her grief is compounded by the fact that she has no children to lean on during this time. Is she regretting their decision/fate? Is she wishing there were children to hold her up right now?
This is hitting a little close to home. The thought of being left alone, if anything happened to KG, is just too overwhelming to bear. Although our TTC efforts are far from over, it is easy to see myself in her shoes.
When chatting with a friend today, she summed it up. She said that all you can do is enjoy every minute together that you can, and never forget to say, "I love you." Well said.
I think I'll call KG right now.
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